Pride Be My Fault
by InOcEnT-schoolgirl
Summary: The riot incident that occurs at the Marlborough Mills is scrutinised by all. Margret pushes John away, only to regret it later. Alone in London she is given the chance to seek a different life and correct the wrongs she has passed committed.


Hello people :D I've only got one existing fanfiction so still a bit inexperienced. But none the less I am a newcomer to the North & South section and am hoping the new blood would be welcome. This story is a small piece i was inspired to write out of my love for both the North & South book and uk series. Whilst i'm somewhat stuck on my existing fanfic I wrote this. This is not a one shot, though I will imagine be no longer than 3 or 4 chapters. I hope you enjoy it! Read and Review! :D

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-PRIDE BE MY FAULT-

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The silence was unbearable. The calm before the storm. The house lay dormant as the violent cries of the riot grew closer.

"I'm afraid you have come at an unfortunate time Miss Hale. Please do not alarm yourself. The rioting crowds are after my own head. You I must request to join my Mother and Sister upstairs and away from harm", came the deep and decisive voice of the tall gentleman that intruded upon her thoughts as she stared fearfully down at the rioters.

The misty eyed beauty raised her gaze to rest upon the ever composed Mr Thornton and noticed the underlying concern that was beheld in the depths of his cool blue eyes. She gazed with intent into his eyes as the connection locked in place, his eyes gracing her with the depths of his inner turmoil. She caught her breath, believing the flicker in his eyes to be a fiction of her imagination, but none the less dropped his gaze then moved to gaze back out the window to the rioters on the Thornton property.

"And what of your Irishmen? What becomes of them amongst all this enclosing violence? They are the most vulnerable of us all", she slowly stated with proud defiance as she raised her chin, her eyes lifted and strengthened as they sought out Mr Thornton's with a challenging glare.

"I assure you Miss Hale they are barricaded in the mill, secured in the second story. They will remain untouched by the wrath of the riot. Now I insits Miss Hale-" Began the firm voice of the Mill's Master, his patience waning as he heard the gates crash with the weight of the incoming men.

The gates crashed and the uproar was terrifying. The windows atop the mill were baring the faces of the Irishmen and their families, faces of pure horror paling their faces and creating tears in their children's eyes.

"Please, Miss Hale. Go!" he cried with urgency as he ushered her up towards the stairway, but she made her reluctance imminent.

"Those Irishmen of yours may perhaps survive the ordeal unscathered if your barricade holds true. But they are with families and are petrified of the wrath of your men. They are more scared than anything because they have no assurances of security. Those men are your employ! Go out their like a true master and gentleman and fight for your men!" Argued the heated Miss Hale with her eyes glaring with absolute and imperious defiance as she gazed at the stunned man before her, missing the flicker of hurt that slipped through his composure.

"Miss Hale. Barricade the door behind myself, then make yourself scarce and join my Mother and Sister... Just think upon this. I realise by your London standards I am no gentleman in your eyes. Please cease to think me less than a man. I am a man of means and I stand for my cause. Give me at least that dignity..."

Margret was stunned, her misty eyes widening as her brow furrowed in slight guilt, before her composure was set. She gazed intently as the man before her stepped proudly through the door to face the imposing crowds. She complied to close the door after him, but felt the constriction of her throat as she in her own presence let the guilt of forcing him out there on his own weighed on her nerves.

She listened cautiously through the sturdy wood of the door as the crowd slowly became rowdier, with every word spoken by the Master John Thornton. She even heard a cry of violence ripple through the crowd and felt the tightening of her chest as she grasped her constricting bodice in horror, listening to the ongoings behind the imposing door as her feet stood still.

She gazed intently at the door, as she leaned her head against it as she felt weaker than her pride could bare. She jumped in fright as her breathing was caught, feeling herself go numb after hearing the force of something shatter.

She gritted her teeth, fiercely bitting her lip as she swiftly rode to the window in the room alongside, as she eyed the situation unfolding before her, eying with intensity the figure standing before the crowd as with command. She then realised that one of the crowd had thrown a stone at the windows atop the mill, causing Mr Thornton's wrath and bolstering the crowds own wrath. She heard the cries of the Irish intensify and felt the tension of the rioting crowd begin to cause friction.

_'I was a prideful fool to send him into that. One man against the wrath of many..._'

She sensed the rioteers begin to pick up their boisterous violence and knew their was no fending them off with words alone. Not of one man at least...

She leapt away from the window and clambered down to the barricades imposed by the front door. She unbolted the door she had previous donned, and rushed out into the plain sight of the crowd to stand beside Mr Thornton.

"You folk should not shame yourselves to resort to violence. That is no way to bring about desired rights!"

-+-

John Thornton was astounded by the voice, resting his gaze on the beautiful creature that had come to his aid.

_'How on earth...? Why...?'_

In immediate accordance to Margret's defence, he urged her back from the riot, but was once again graced by her stubbornness and pride.

"Miss Hale, go inside! Now!" he cried in order to make his voice plain, pushing her behind his stature.

"No! I can be of aide here. You need me here-" she started her defence as she pushed past his shoulders to stand on front of him.

"You people have no shame. Do not raise your fist to cause impact! Raise your voice to be heard. You have nothing now! Go now and cease this shamefaced violence!" Margret called out, her voice cold and powerful, her strength as overbearing as any man.

John felt the tense rioteers begin to beguile, some turning their faces down in shame. Only to his horror those more desperate few were boiling over, sending cries of fury into the air.

"Miss Hale, have you no sense! Inside, now-!" John started as he tried to grab her wrist as he eyed the crowds with distinct concern.

"-No, Mr Thornton. You are in danger without me here. As you said, they want your head, but as a lady is present they cannot harm you! You need me here!" Margret countered harshly, turning her defiance onto him but with a brow creased with concern.

"Miss Hale! They are people drawn with desperation! Their minds will not consider etiquette! Please! Go inside!" he retorted with equal defiance, as he pulled her behind him only to receive a rock to graze his jaw.

Margret eyed the wound that was now dripping blood with pale-faced fright as she instinctively stepped back.

Mr Thornton felt the wound sting and saw the violence of the crowd intensify, rocks being cast in his direction, within close proximity of Margret.

_'The soldiers should be here by now!'_

John felt Margret clutch onto his arm as she stared transfixed at the crowd. He turned once again to Margret, a pleading in his eyes as he pushed her to the door

"Don't shield yourself by means of a women!" came a harsh unreadable cry from the rioting crowd, with malicious intent sending a shiver down Margret's spine.

John grew angry and held Margret behind him protectively as he faced the crowd only to find to his both surprise and later devastation, the warmth of a body pressed to his own in protection of his, arms wrapped around his neck.

"Do not further disgrace-" Margret started fiercely as she tightened her hold on Mr Thornton, facing the crowd with incredulous determination and courage.

John suddenly felt a ache in his chest as he felt the figure before him fall limp into his arms mid sentence. He caught the weight instantaneous with the sudden silence in his ears.

None could believe what had happened, and now all was dead upon his ears and eyes but that of Margret laying cold and limp in his arms and the sudden urge he felt to envelope her in his embrace and cry.

"Mis Hale!? Can you hear me, Miss Hale?" he called with pain in his eyes and worry laden in his voice.

Their was no movement from her, as he eyed her graying face and the profuse bleeding dripping from her hairline. He eyed her temple as his heart stopped.

He composed himself and swiftly put an arm under her legs and carried her into the house with only one word to spare to those rioteers that were currently being rounded up by the soldiers.

"Look at what you have resorted to. Are you satisfied now!?"

he turned his back on them and strode into the house and bolted the door after him, his mind in absolute torture as his limbs moved with rigid technicality.

He rushed to put Margret on the comfort of the settee, laying her down carefully as he held her hand muttering to himself with worry.

His Mother strode in with efficiency after witnessing the scene from upstairs brought the maid in with towels and went to her son's side.

"John. Sarah will be back shortly with a bowl of hot water and a cloth. I shall go for the Doctor. Look after her for the mean time."

John merely nodded with a tight jaw as his Mother strode from the room. He eyed Margret intensely, seeking the comfort of movement. Anything to let him know she was alright...

He strode a strict line, pacing back and fourth in wait of Sarah, his thoughts making him sick.

As soon as Sarah came in he took the cloth and water and sat down by Margret side, ordering Sarah to find blankets. He slowly began dabbing the wound with the wet cloth upon the maid's exit, his utmost attention paid into carefully cleaning the blood from Margret's hairline. His composure dissolved as he cleaned the wound, his hand beginning to tremble as they brushed back her hair from the wound. His eyes misted over in torment as he ran his fingers through the now loose dark strands, feeling the blood run through his fingers.

"Margret... Oh my Margret..." he uttered, his heart shrieking in pain.

He felt his eyes begin to cloud with tears, reluctant to break and let them fall. He knew very well she was never his and isn't likely to be... But never the less she was the Margret that plagued his thoughts and holds his heavy heart.

As he held back the tears he slowly caressed her cold cheek, feeling no comfort in her icy skin. He brought his finger up to trace her fine brow, realising it's intense heat.

In strode the Doctor in all his professional glory, rushing to the side of Miss Hale. Mr Thornton composed himself and stepped to the side to be joined by his Mother, his eyes never leaving Margret.

"Come John. We must attend to your jaw", he heard as his eyes still rested upon Miss Hale, to finally concede to follow his Mother out the door.

-+-

Slowly Margret opened her eyes to find herself it the daunting company of Mrs Thornton, under her piercing and disapproving stare. Margret felt the cloudiness of her eyes begin to clear and her heavy eyelids flicker shut before opening fully, her conscious mind awake. As Margret begin to push herself up, she fell dizzy only slump back into the comfort of the settee.

"Now Miss Hale, you are under doctors orders to not to move about and cause yourself distress", came the well composed and mannered voice of Mr Thornton as he entered the room.

Margret merely eyed him thoughtfully and furrowed her brow in confusion. She sighed deeply and closed her eyes once again too hazy to work out her surrounding and the previous happenings. She closed her eyes tightly only to have a slide-show of images form on front of her.

_'The riot! Mr Thornton...'_

She snapped her eyes open and pushed herself into a sitting position and stared wide eyed at Mr Thornton.

"The riot! What..." she burst out only to look around in confusion with no riot in sight.

"Miss Hale. The riot has passed as the soldiers came. You were hit in the head by a rock." Mr Thornton clarified simply, a slight sense of relief enveloping him since her recovery.

"Mother, would you get Miss Hale a glass of water?" he asked after hearing the scarcity of Miss Hale's voice, watching in relief as she left the room.

The air was cool and rigid in their awkward presence.

"Miss Hale... I believe that I owe you my gratification for what you did... And also an apology that you were put in danger by myself..." Mr Thornton uttered with both guilt and relief, his firm voice softened.

Margret gazed up at him as he moved to the window sill and stared out at the mill in deep thought. She sighed and regained his attention, her voice soft and dry, "I myself was foolish... I apologize for putting you in a compromising position..."

Mr Thornton gazed at her with slightly widened eyes, as he nodded in acceptance with a small smile that surprised her.

"What of the Irishmen...?" Margret asked softly, not trying to bring back a previous conversation.

"They have thus calmed down. Only minor scratches on those few close to the broken window", he replied shortly, gazing back out the window toward the mill.

Mrs Thornton returned with a glass of water which Margret took gratefully, before swiftly quiting Miss Hale's presence in order to find Fanny.

"Miss Hale... I must inquire... why...?" he asked warily, turning around to face her, giving her a view of the pale skin and dark circles under his eyes.

Margret eyed Mr Thornton carefully, realising his fatigue. She eyed him in curious wonder, before sitting herself upright on the settee.

"I did what I believed to be the right coarse of action for me to take. I was the one who sent you out there without a thought of the consequences that could impact you... I foolishly did not consider the danger I had just put you in... I apologise for my rash actions." she uttered softly, turning her guilt ridden eyes away from the probing ones of John Thornton, her breath catching in her throat as she felt his intense gaze solidify upon her.

"There is no need to apologise miss Hale."

To these simple words Margret looked up with a relieved smile gracing her lips, resting her gratifying gaze on that of Mr Thornton's, surprised by the sincerity beneath their cool blue depths and softening of his stern gaze. She flinched away, disconnecting their eye contact with a faint and only partially supressed blush upon her pale skin, tinting her flawless cheekbones as the only clue to her discomfort.

-+-

Mr Thornton watched as his gaze dimmed it's earnest intensity, saddened by the reminder of his status of ungentlemanly, as he watched Margret's eyes flinch away from his own, his hopes once again disheartened long before they had arisen. John schooled his features not to let his hurt at her actions however slight arise to the light and Margret here to witness it. Instead he continued to stare out the window, down at the mill, his gaze stern once more, the gaze of the mill master John Thornton.

He felt the slow and cautious approach of Miss Hale, his gaze still directed before him, only his keen ears carried her light footsteps to him, his mind working in circles like never before at her possible reason for approach.

"Mr Thornton... I-" she started with hesitation, her cheeks burning further as she gazed at him in a way she couldn't have before felt possible, though in a way and for a reason she has yet to acknowledge.

Her thoughts and her small voice was cut off abruptly as she to her surprise heard his softened voice, though his back still faced her, his head held proud and tall upon his strong shoulders.

"Miss Hale... I wish to know why you came to my aid... Those cannot be your only reasons... I must know what was going through your head..."

Margret opened her mouth, no answer upon her lips as she eyed him with wary curiosity, overlooking his somewhat blunt words, her parted lips still bore no answer.

"Those are my only reasons... I put you into danger by my foolish words, and that I am sincerely apologetic. It was my responsibility to correct the actions that consequenced from my foolish words." she finally sighed, casting her eyes down, sensing Mr Thornton finally turning to face her, a heat felt in the air with a burning intensity as their gaze meet with an unflinching contact.

"I cannot believe you to be as indifferent to me as you imply when your actions suggest otherwise, correct me if I am mistaken... I ask that you accept my hand in marriage and that-?" John began with pride and well hidden nervousness.

"Mr Thornton", began the suddenly sharp voice of Miss Margret Hale, her features hardened, "do I understand that you either have suddenly fallen ill and do not understand the implications of what you are saying? Or do you expect me to accept the hand of a man merely for the sake of reputation and propriety? Do you not know me at all? I shall never enter into a marriage through such circumstances. I had not thought you capable of asking such a deed of me, but perhaps I have mistaken your character once again... Good day, but I might ask you to leave and not utter another word..."

John felt his lungs nearly collapse as he merely gazed at her, so many unapproved emotions reaching the depths of his cool blue eyes, beyond the control of his once immaculate composure.

"Do you mean to reject and insult me at the same time!? I would not ask you to enter such a loveless and circumstantial marriage, nor would I in return enter such a marriage. I had not thought you to think so low of me. I have obviously mistaken any attachment possible on your behalf- after all I am no gentleman...

'I love you. This one reason alone I asked for your acceptance of my hand. After todays events I had thought perhaps my love was not as unrequited as I had previously thought... But forgive me for imposing on you and wasting you time."

John Thornton, with a dull glimmer of hopelessness in his gaze as his eyes flinched away from hers, a overbearing pain welling despite his best efforts. He swept from the room, his hat and gloves only being caught on his way to the door by a subconscious reflex.

Margret watched with wide and wondrous eyes as the manufacturer made a hasty retreat from her presence, a clouded tear entering her pained eyes, layered with a heavy guilt.

"He loved me...? And yet I...? Could I not love him...?" she spoke to herself, no tears spilling from her tired eyes.

_'yes I could love him... pride be my fault... but indifferent I am not... only missunderstood in your affections I am... forgive me...'_

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_Thank you for reading :D Please review. Please tell me what you think. But be kind. :D

REVIEW REVIEW REIVEW!!! hehe


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